


Exeunt

by Subtle_Shenanigans



Category: The Tale Of Dark Forest
Genre: Anastashia is a snow leopard-white tiger, Best Friends, Cats, Death, Drabble, Exeunt by The Oh Hellos, Gen, Grief, Hybrids, I adore these two, Leaving Home, Love, Nu’ah is a king cheetah, Original Characters - Freeform, Original work - Freeform, Platonic Love, Platonic Relationship, Song Inspired, anthropomorphic animals, crossposted on Instagram, death mention, do not repost to another site, no beta we die like men, village
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22359619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subtle_Shenanigans/pseuds/Subtle_Shenanigans
Summary: North and South. Beginning to End.Rest well, dear friend.
Relationships: Anastashia & Nu’ah
Kudos: 1





	Exeunt

**Author's Note:**

> So, I originally posted this on Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/p/B7FwMUnlTDo/?igshid=1gkuj3l41zehr)
> 
> Basically, my oldest and dearest OCs are anthro hybrids. I wrote a book on high school (it’s not that good; if I had the energy I would rewrite it but I’m working on the sequel. It’s more of a separate novel connected to the first book though.) 
> 
> The characters featured in this are what are called ‘Legend Figures’ aka historical figures well known in specific regions. Anastashia supposedly traveled the world and named all the known continents and places (founding Dark Forest and becoming first Queen of there), while her best friend and companion, Nu’ah the Cartographer penned it all on the known map.
> 
> At the end of his life he died far south in the land of Ravaark, and Anastashia travelled alone for years before disappearing from history.
> 
> And that lands us here.

“Far, far North; is this how it will be, old friend? To die, opposite the world to you?”

There was a dry, humorless chuckle. It echoed dully in the cave. The wind shrieked and howled outside.

She gazed at the fire dwindling down. Felt the cold creeping into her own pelt. Ice crawling and clawing into her bones. She exhaled, watched her breath appear like a white cloud.

She was going to die.

This thought didn’t bother her as much as it should. After all she had been wandering, speaking to memory of one dead for the last few years.

Anastashia pulled her shredded cloak tighter. Tightened her grip on the clasp from Nu’ah’s old cape in her paw. She’d kept it since she buried him far, far south in Ravaark.

And now here she was.

At the furthest fringe of Airz; at the top of the world.

She didn’t bother with the map. She had memorized it long ago.

It had been Nu’ah’s last one.

Sometimes she wondered; should they have stopped their wanderings long before? 

Would it have changed things?

“ _ Probably not, _ ” she could imagine him saying. “ _ Remember, as kids? When we left? _ ”

“How can I not?” She replied to no one.

The village of Ahrd’denef was an old one, with wooden structures raised from the ground and draped with colored mats and rugs. It was in the middle of nowhere, far from other settlements, and surrounded on all sides by forests. Only to the East did the forest thin out, where the stream ran from the mountain.

Children could be heard laughing and playing, while parents weaved or farmed or cooked, looking on. They looked after one another.

A good percent of the children had lost parents early on, to weather and sickness, but most families still stood strong.

Anastashia was one such child who had lost both parents, and had no other subsequent family. Stocky, low built; she stood out with white fur hinted silver and inky, black stripes. Some called her winter-night. Most just rolled their eyes when she popped up.

An adventurer born in a village that dissuades travel.

At least she was decent with a fishing spear.

One sure thing, over the years, was that where Anastashia was, Nu’ah was to follow.

The cheetah was like her in that he had no family but the village who cared for them. And, while not too different from the rest (they, through generations, were mostly creatures and hybrids on the lean side with brown pelts), had thick stripes despite not being a hybrid. His nickname was melt-pelt.

Neither of them liked these nicknames.

Nu’ah’s saving grace was that he had a wonderful memory, and could draw from such - specifically, paths he had traversed.

Unfortunately, Ahrd’denef didn’t have much use for map-makers.

Claws peaked out on the edge of a building, and Anastashia looked around, eyes narrowed. “It’ll be hard to get past Ohde, tonight,” she murmured.

Nu’ah flicked an ear. “Ye sure he’s watch?”

“Positive - he’s chatting with Haffr, so he’s got ta be askin’ her ‘bout when he rotates in.”

Nu’ah glanced over her shoulder, and sure enough, the Serval was gesturing wildly and talking with his cousin. He fought off a groan. Ohde was observant.

. . .but, they wouldn’t put this off any longer. They were already almost young adults, and they refused to be shackled into some position in the village. No matter how thankful they were, how much they loved this family. . .they were born to experience the world around them. Not stay here, in this valley, all their life.

It’s just that no one understood. No one could fathom how they felt. There would be ‘loving concern’ as everyone tried to convince them it was better to stay.

It was forceful, perhaps manipulative. There were certainly those who they were attached to.

But they just . . .couldn’t. Couldn’t stay. Not with the hills and clouds calling them from the wind.

Nu’ah sighed. “Okay, it’s okay. We’ll stick to th’ plan. We can do this.” He gripped her shoulder.

And Anastashia turned; met his determined gaze and nodded.

“We leave tonight.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The village was quiet, with the muted hush of insects in the surrounding woods, and the quiet murmuring of those asleep. Anastashia slipped out, a figure of silver when she crossed through moonlight.

She saw Nu’ah amongst shadow and slipped over to him, cursing wordlessly at how her pelt glowed even in the dark. 

He flicked an ear, then jerked his head. Sure enough, Ohde stood watch, tail flicking casually. 

(They’d had enough trouble with Kodiaks and their smaller, black-gutted cousins in the past, that a watch was needed.)

There was no true wall around the village, just three to four guards posted at the corners, walking back and forth to keep an eye out. And, while they contemplated slipping past one of the others, they knew that their best bet was the south-western fringe where the river crossed. The direction Ohde was watching.

They waited several minutes, eyes tracking his movements. Occasionally, Ohde would stop, settle on his javelin, then resume his patrol.

It was merely a matter of slipping past, as he strolled in the opposite direction, making sure the other guard was not facing them, and then-

Then they were in the stretch of trees thinned where it met the stream. They stood still, watching from dappled shadow, tense and ready to run if Ohde spotted them.

But there was nothing. No cries of alarm, no creature dragging them back to demand what ridiculous notion took hold of them.

They hurried along, wincing as their hindpaws splashed in cold water, and breathing heavily as they created the incline on the opposite bank.

They kept going, even as they saw the world sprawl out before them, etched in moonlit shadows, though they did pause to share a disbelieving laugh.

Down the slope and into more woods, they melted and blended in the thick of it as they went forward to meet adventure.

Armed with a fishing spear, and some parchment and quills, they raced forward to meet history.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


And in a cave, far away, years down the line, she remembers and slips away, smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Although I plan on publishing my sequel I’m working on, you may see more drabbles of these sorts of characters!!!


End file.
